Frank Corcoran

The September question before the lovely dawn fingers me, Rosy: Linked In to WHAT ? To whom ? And how differs our scurrying fingers´ e-linking from good old “communication” , I ask
tired them ? Whom do they “reach” ? Outreach ? Why do they wish to reach out ? eg. On the vast panorama of inter-human ( yes, this niggling preposition; precisely this ) “two become one” ( one flesh ? one virtual reality ? one confluence of radio-signals ? one mind and heart and song ? ) miracles, where and how profound is my Linking In ? Who is out there in that pre-dawn dawn caring for me or my rosy fingers ? ´Course my lovely linked in communicants could ask me the same electronic question, even now ? Link me in, Scottie. Call me ” in” . I´m in! In what my matins musing ? My early e-post, my post-Morse, post bush-telegraph, post smoke signals from two unwashed Red Indians´ponies´ blankets´palaver ? – A marriage of fine, interlinking minds, e-snailers all; eye can not see nor ear hear the inter-galactic whir of souls linked in a new ghostly or ghastly dance. Let´s do it! Link in or die! Why? Monads bow out and smile wearily. Linking. Missing. Keep on. Whirr! Hang on! The noosphere´s awash with e-whoosh as we ride a photon linking us. Linking us whither? Where two or three are gathered together, are linked in, in my name…. Tones or persons?